It’s still fairly reasonable here, the temps in the 50s and 60s during the day, but the trees outside our windows have been telling another story.
Like millions of other Americans over the years, we took a Sunday drive yesterday. We skipped the highway and wound our way into the Berkshires by the backroads, following the Deerfield River past fields and stone walls. We wove in and out of old mill towns, their glory days long gone, factories empty, but with people still living in the old mill houses. We wondered for the umpteenth time what on earth they found to do for a living in these broken-down towns and so far away from everything.
I’ll leave you with a picture from Florida, where we actually found snow.
Oh, Florida, Massachusetts, that is.